


More than Thank You

by hiya_emblem (hiya_girlie)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Ingrid why are you so dumb, Mentions of Glenn Fraldarius, Mentions of Mercedes’s awful cooking, Mutual Pining, also anyone else get sully (fea) vibes from leonie???, dumb lesbians, leonie appreciation squad, lesbian ally sylvain, some minor whump, sylvain is ingrid’s wingman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 02:09:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21402433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiya_girlie/pseuds/hiya_emblem
Summary: Leonie gets herself hurt protecting Ingrid, and it’s only natural that Ingrid is worried about her, right?
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Leonie Pinelli
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	More than Thank You

Leonie was snoring softly when Ingrid pushed the door open. It threw her off, and she thought for a moment she was in the wrong room, but then again, Leonie wasn’t the most nobly inclined of ladies. It made sense that she’d snore.

The last battle had been the worst yet, leaving dozens of their soldiers with a multitude of wounds, but Ingrid only cared about one right now. After all, Leonie had taken the hit for her. It was only right that Ingrid go to her room and see her, to thank her.

Maybe that wasn’t her only reason, but she couldn’t place the feeling in her chest when she walked in, so she pushed it aside.

She quietly shut the door behind her, aware of the slight change in Leonie’s breathing and the shuffling of blankets and the creaking of the old bed.

“Ingrid?” Leonie asked, her voice a mixture of sleepy, shaky, and surprised.

Ingrid turned and saw Leonie sitting up in her bed. Her thick orange hair was loose, instead of tied in its usual side ponytail. A bandage wrapped around her chest and shoulder several times, and Ingrid could almost see the bloody flesh underneath. A life threatening injury, even if she was wearing armor. They were lucky they had talented healers to keep people alive.

“Oh, I, um…” Ingrid averted her eyes after realizing she had been staring at Leonie’s chest far longer than would be deemed appropriate. It was just… The scars… There were much more than she’d expected. The only scars the women Ingrid knew had came from housework or childbirth, never from battle. It was frightening to think that everyone had been thrown into the fray, regardless of gender or status. Thinking on it, if this war had never happened and if Glenn were still alive, she would be getting married soon instead of riding a pegasus into chaotic battles and cleaning her bloody lance afterwards.

She cleared her throat, which sounded more like choking, looking at Leonie again and being sure to keep her eyes above her neck. “I came to see you, to thank you,” she said, stumbling over her words. “For protecting me in that last fight.”

Leonie shook her head, laughing. Despite her obvious wound, she smiled. “It’s nothing really. Who wouldn’t sacrifice themselves for a comrade?” She shifted a bit, pulling the blankets on her bed closer.

Ingrid found herself feeling aggravated. Leonie was making light of it, she knew, but she called Ingrid her comrade. They had known each other, although not much, for over five years now, and though their interactions were few, Ingrid felt they were at least friends. Of course, she wasn’t as close to Leonie as Raphael or Ignatz were, but...

She masked her irritation and forced an awkward laugh. “Yes, who wouldn’t…”

Leonie eyed her, raising an eyebrow. “Are you feeling well? You don’t seem as confident as you usually are.”

Her words caught Ingrid off guard and she panicked. She couldn’t find words to respond and her eyes drifted away from her face to look once again at the criss crossing scars across Leonie’s arms and belly.

“Oh, those?” Leonie said, tracing one a hands length long with her forefinger. “Most are from hunting,” she said casually. “One is from a time I got in a fight with my neighbor, a few are from falling out of trees, a couple burns…”

Ingrid felt very aware of her own delicate skin, the only blemishes were a few fresh bruises on her legs. It felt odd to compare them. From what Ingrid knew, she and Leonie came from similar backgrounds. They both scraped by and made do with what they had, often resorting to creative methods of reusing old things. 

Yet, the story Leonie’s skin told was much different from the one Ingrid’s told. Leonie’s seemed to tell of a girl who was more like a fox than a human, hunting anything and everything, reckless in her methods but successful nonetheless. Her own looked like a porcelain vase, clean and crisp, with only as much personality as her sculptor had seen fit to give her, glazed and kept as decoration and occasionally holding flowers whose beauty outshined hers.

Leonie was a true survivalist. Ingrid had all of the surviving done for her.

“Ingrid?” Leonie asked, prompting her back to reality.

Ingrid started. “Oh, my apologies. I was just thinking about how different we are.”

“What do you mean?” Leonie seemed genuinely curious, but it would be difficult for Ingrid to explain her thoughts without seeming strange, so she muttered a quick, “never mind”.

Leonie quieted. “Alright.” Then she pushed off her blankets and moved to stand. “Well, I am famished. I’m going to go to the dining hall to find something to eat.”

Ingrid nodded, excusing herself. As she hurried to her own room, she felt embarrassed. Why had she acted so strange? Was she more uncomfortable around Leonie than she realized? Was it something about the way Leonie looked, sitting in her bed like a bored child waiting for the rain to stop? Perhaps the personal nature of seeing the scars had thrown her off. Her expression of gratitude seemed so childish, and her awkward silence afterwards hadn’t helped. She ducked her head as she walked, wondering what would become of their relationship now.

~~~~

Leonie took her plate and sat down. It was a bit chilly with the doors open, but she felt heat rise off her meal and let it warm her. She probably should have put on a shirt before leaving her room, but it would’ve been a hassle trying to dress properly while avoiding causing discomfort.

As she ate, she thought back on her interaction with Ingrid a few minutes earlier. She hadn’t taken much thought when she’d pushed her out of the way of the axe travelling towards her skull. It was an instinct she’d honed from hunting, when her prey would occasionally fight back. Her first thought was to protect whoever she was with.

Ingrid seemed nice enough, and it was a kind gesture to thank her personally. It showed a level of respect Leonie strived to get from each of her allies. But something about it bothered her. Ingrid acted quite clumsily with her words. They were scripted but fumbled, and her odd moments of silence were uncharacteristic. She always spoke her mind around others. Was she trying to hide something from Leonie?

She sighed, taking a bite. She could tell by the abundance of clashing spices that Mercedes was on cooking duty, and though her taste buds protested, she cleaned her plate. How long had she been sleeping, to wake up so ravenous?

On her way back to her room, she spotted Ingrid heading towards the cathedral. She called her name, trying to get her attention, but she must not have heard her, because she continued undisturbed.

_ I was just thinking about how different we are. _The words rang true. They came from completely different worlds, Ingrid from the world of proper nobility and fate changing Crests and Leonie from the world of backwater villages and spending more time in the woods than in her house. They were different girls, and it was obvious in the way they looked and acted. Ingrid was so pretty and prim, despite her hatred of makeup, and her confidence reminded Leonie of the Knights of Seiros, calm and firm. Compared to her, Leonie was messy and rough, trying too hard to prove herself or show off, getting into arguments easily and generally being just stubborn enough to get on people’s nerves.

A strange emotion surfaced inside of her. She felt inferior in a time when she prided herself on being top tier.

She hoped it was just the tightness of the wrap on her chest, restricting her breathing and irritating her torn skin despite its softness. She needed some more sleep, she reasoned, so she put aside her mixed thoughts and went to bed, picturing Ingrid walking in her room with her arms full of wilting flowers and saying, “These reminded me of you.”

The image haunted her.

~~~~

Leonie’s injury wasn’t fully healed yet, so she skipped the next few war council meetings. Ingrid was disappointed each time she didn’t show, then her disappointment immediately turned into confusion. Why did she care so much? 

“Hello? Ingrid?” Sylvain asked, startling her. She’d been on her way to her room after a meeting adjourned, lost in thought, and he suddenly appeared beside her.

“Oh, it’s just you.” She didn’t feel like shooing him off, so she made no attempt to tell him to leave.

He raised an eyebrow. “Normally you’re so quick to greet me with a scolding or a hasty goodbye. What’s the occasion?”

“You might be useful,” she said. He was particularly skilled in reading others’ emotions, so maybe he could help her sort out hers.

He paused. “Wait, what? Useful? Are you feeling alright, Ingrid?”

“Will you come with me to my room?” She asked, walking with renewed vigor. He might be obnoxious and insincere, but he was her friend. Friends helped each other, and this would make up for all of the times Ingrid had done favors for him.

“Your room?” He asked incredulously. “This is nothing like you, something is definitely wrong with you.”

Despite his protests, he came with her and walked in behind her, closing the door.

“So,” he said awkwardly, taking a seat at her desk, “what’s up?”

She sat on her bed as she tried to compose her thoughts into a coherent sentence. “I don’t know how to feel about a certain… ally,” she said finally. “I want to be close to her, but I can’t help but feel like I’m just splitting us apart.”

Sylvain’s eyes widened. “A girl?”

Ingrid realized what she said and blushed furiously. “I meant-“

“Are you finally over Glenn?” He asked, looking directly at her.

“Well, no, I just…” She trailed off, feeling her heart ache at the mention of her dead fiance’s name. He had been her first love, and she had convinced herself that she would never get over him and no one would ever come close to him. However, the feelings she was feeling right then reminded her of those she had felt all those years ago.

He moved to sit next to her. “Ingrid, it’s been years,” he said. “It’s about time you let go. So, tell me about this mystery girl you’re so infatuated with.”

She flushed. “Infatuated? I think you’re mistaken, my feelings for her are nowhere near that deep.”

He rolled his eyes. “You can’t fool me, Ingrid. You’re kind of an open book to me. Your face is bright red and you’re not making eye contact.”

Ingrid sighed. Of course Sylvain would be able to tell how she was feeling. Still, being called out like that was unexpected. She didn’t feel that strongly about Leonie, did she?

“I want to be her friend, but more than that too, I don’t know. I feel like everything I do just makes it worse, but I don’t know what to do! This isn’t some betrothal were all I have to do is agree and hope it works out, this is confusing and strange, and I-“ She trailed off, sighing again and rubbing her eyes.

“You know, Ingrid,” he said, “you don’t have to tell her how you feel outright. Just get to know her, y’know? Girls love a good dinner date.”

Ingrid paused. “You know, that might be the first smart thing I’ve ever heard you say, Sylvain.”

He winced. “Ouch. But good luck I guess.”

_ I’ll need it, _she thought with a grimace. How was she supposed to do this?

~~~~

Leonie let Marianne peel the bandage off her chest, running her fingers over the scarred tissue that ran from her collarbone to the bottom of her ribcage. It was rough and patchy, but it was so much better without the bandage. She put on the shirt Marianne gave her, sighing.

“Thanks for your help,” she said. “Your magic works wonders.”

Marianne smiled slightly. “Of course.”

Marianne excused herself to go check on other patients, leaving Leonie by herself. She let a few moments pass in silence, then put on her boots and grabbed her spear. After all that time of doing nothing while her wound healed, she needed to get back in shape.

She crossed the monastery grounds to the training arena and was surprised to find Ingrid already there, warming up.

“Hey, Ingrid,” Leonie said, waving. “Mind if I join you?”

Ingrid glanced at her. “Oh hi, Leonie. Um, sure, I don’t mind. Did they clear you for fighting now?”

Leonie nodded. “Yup, I’m good to go. I might take it a little easier than I normally would, but I’ve been itching to practice.”

They went through the warm up together, mirroring each other’s movements, loosening their muscles and letting their instincts take over. Leonie came at Ingrid first, twirling her spear in a whirlwind attack, but Ingrid was faster and didn’t have the restriction of a dull ache in her arm and shoulder and she blocked, stepping in close and pushing against Leonie with her spear.

Leonie applied more pressure in an attempt to gain control, but a spike of pain made her cry out and drop her spear. She would’ve toppled over if Ingrid hadn’t caught her, steadying her with her arms.

A moment passed before Leonie regained her footing. Ingrid still had an arm around her, and she was close enough that Leonie could hear her breathing. She felt warm.

“Are you alright?” Ingrid asked, picking up her spear. “That sounded painful.”

Leonie rubbed the area around her scar. “It’s fine,” she said quickly. “I must’ve just strained it. Really, it’s no big deal.”

Ingrid looked unsure, but handed her the spear and took up her stance. Not wanting Leonie to hurt herself again, she attacked with less vigor, trying to avoid landing blows on Leonie’s bad arm. Leonie, although she said nothing, seemed to appreciate the gesture, and with care, she went the rest of the match without hurting herself, eventually yielding when Ingrid disarmed her.

“Thanks for sparring with me,” Leonie said as they put their practice equipment away. “I really needed it.”

Ingrid smiled. “Of course. But are you sure you’re alright? Sometimes reopening scars is worse than getting them.”

Leonie laughed, despite a bit of discomfort. “I told you, it’s fine. What’s got you so worried?”

Ingrid looked away and her reply came hastily. “Oh, you just seemed so happy to finally be training again and it would be a shame if you had to go back to resting because you were too eager.”

“Oh.”

They stood awkwardly, Leonie not completely sure she believed Ingrid. She’d been hurt before, this time was no different. She had been careful during their sparring, why was Ingrid still worried? More importantly, why did she care that Ingrid was so worried?

“Well,” Ingrid started, fidgeting, “I’m a bit hungry now. Would you like to come to the dining hall with me and get some food?”

When she mentioned food, Leonie’s stomach growled quite loudly, provoking a short laugh from Ingrid.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” She chuckled.

“Why not?”

**Author's Note:**

> Idk i just wanted to write some wholesome ingridonie bc i need more oblivious mutual pining in my life!!! 
> 
> Anyway thanks for reading, my first fic here after a few years of not writing fanfics so it’s kinda oof but hey, it’s... something?


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